


You Are Cordially Invited

by Littleshebear



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Comedy, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 20:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18453683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littleshebear/pseuds/Littleshebear
Summary: It's traditional for Guardians to give A Ring of Eternity to their perfect match. Zavala thinks he's found his in Suraya Hawthorne.(Tooth rotting fluff that I wrote as an answer to an ask prompt. It got away from me. Expect romance, comedy and just a dash of bittersweetness)





	You Are Cordially Invited

“Are you serious?” Suraya shakes her head as soon as the words leave her mouth. Of course he’s serious. Zavala is always serious but she’s never seen him look as nervous as he does now. His only answer to her entirely pointless question is to hold her gaze with wide, earnest eyes. His brows creep together slightly, deepening the worry lines on his forehead.

 

Suraya glances at the falcon perched beside her on the balcony as if for guidance, then clasps her hands together to keep them from shaking. She swallows hard before speaking again. “I didn’t even know Guardians did this, is this a thing for Guardians? This is a thing.”

 

“This is indeed a... _ thing _ for us, yes.” Zavala’s lips twitch into a tiny smile at her anxious babbling. “I would term it a tradition.”

 

“But-but,” she stammers and takes a shuddering breath, “People might not approve, you’re the Commander and I’m…” She tails off, unsure of exactly how to describe herself in this most nerve wracking of moments. “I mean, they might not like it, they might think it’s a conflict, it could make things difficult with the Consensus, the factions might-”

 

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” His voice is as even and calm as hers is staccato and fearful. “I want this. But only if you do too.”

 

She nods slowly, then gradually faster as the realisation hits her. “Yes.” Another nod. “Yes. I do.” She breaks into a grin and yanks off her gloves before dropping them unceremoniously to the floor. “Yes.” Her vision blurs with tears as she watches Zavala’s trembling hand remove the Ring of Eternity from the little velvet box perched in his other palm. 

 

-/

 

“Heavy ammo available.” Shaxx lolls in his chair, cupping his helmeted head in his hand and contemplates designing a medal for “Dullest Crucible Match Ever.” A perverse part of him thinks such dedication to pedestrian combat should be rewarded somehow. He is about to muster the energy to fetch more coffee when Arcite chirps happily at him. 

 

“ Communiqué from Commander Zavala, My Lord.”

 

“What’s he saying?”

 

“Message reads,  _ She said yes. _ ”

 

Meanwhile, in the Vostok arena, a warlock is poised to leap. They fudge their jump and careen off the edge of Felwinter Peak after being shocked by Shaxx’s sudden, deafening bellow of triumph. 

 

-/

 

“This doesn’t make any sense.”

 

“It’s perfectly straightforward.” Arach Jalaal sighs. “What is it you don’t understand, Executor? We’ve been invited to witness Commander Zavala and Suraya Hawthorne’s wedding. They’ll make vows, people will watch them vow, some may cry, I suggest you bring tissues. Afterwards, there’ll be a celebration, you can bring along a plus one to that. A plus one is a friend, assuming you have any.”

 

“I understand what a wedding is, you fool,” Hideo hisses. “I just didn’t think Commander Zavala was the marrying type. Certainly not the type to marry someone of her... _ Character _ .”

 

“I fail to see how this could be surprising to anyone,” Lakshmi states in that metallic purr of hers. “The attraction was obvious.”

 

“Yes, if you have a machine that lets you spy on potential futures, I suppose it isn’t surprising.”

 

“You don’t need a vex scrying device to see it,” Jalaal says, rolling his eyes. “I knew.”

 

“How?” Asks Hideo, incredulous.

 

“Because I have eyes. You’re just blinded by the fact that you can’t imagine a man you admire so much having opinions that differ from your own. That, and your ego still hasn’t healed from that bloody nose she gave you.”

 

Hideo scowls and does his best to ignore the smoky chuckle Jalaal’s jibe elicited from Lakshmi. “I’m not going,” he states, tossing the invitation on the table for emphasis.

 

“Do as you please. I’m sure the Acting Head of the Consensus won’t take that as an insult to himself and his bride. No repercussions for New Monarchy, I’m sure.” Lakshmi’s build doesn’t allow her to smirk but the condescension dripping from her words is obvious.

 

“Fine.” Hideo sighs. “I’ll show my face. But I’m leaving early.”

 

“Oh, be nice,” chides Jalaal. “Let them have this. Let them have a little fun before the planet blows up.”

 

-/

 

Osiris idles in the Infinite Forest, waiting for his echoes to bring him some news of anything that might require his attention but it’s a quiet time. He decides to search for a busier time to stave off the boredom. He cannot believe Ikora cancelled plans to help him build a new simulation. She reneged to help plan a wedding. A wedding. Of all things. 

 

“She’ll be back next week,” Sagira assures him. “You’re just grumpy because you weren’t invited.”

 

“I am not bothered in the slightest. I have no wish to partake in trivial social niceties. I have far more important things to focus on.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Sagira continues, unconvinced at his display of disinterest. “I’ll tell you all about it.”

 

“What?”

 

“I was invited.”

 

“You were what!?”

 

-/

 

“You seem sad, my dear.” 

 

Ikora glances up from her draft table plan at the sounds of Eva’s gentle inquiry. 

 

“No, I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

 

“It’s definitely something.” Eva eases herself down into the chair next to Ikora’s. “You’re distracted. Look, you’ve put Shaxx next to Saladin at the High Table.”

 

Ikora laughs and hastily re-arranges the name tags. “That was remiss of me. It would be entertaining, for certain, but not fair on the happy couple.” Ikora’s smile fades when Eva lays her hand on hers.

 

“Come on. You can talk to old Eva.”

 

“It’s just…” She shrugs helplessly. “I keep thinking about where Cayde would sit. He would have loved this.” She allows herself another wan smile, “He was a secret romantic.”

 

“He would have. He’d be driving Zavala to distraction with completely unworkable ideas by now, I’ve no doubt.” She gives Ikora’s hand a squeeze. “He wouldn’t want everything to stop on his account. So we have to carry on. Do what Cayde would have wanted.”

 

“Cayde would have sat Shaxx next to Saladin.”

 

Eva chuckles. “Pick out a place for him. We’ll set a glass of that terrible green goo he used to drink there.” 

 

“Isn’t that a little morbid for a wedding?”

 

“It’s a mark of respect. I’ll clear it with Suraya and Zavala but I’m sure they’ll appreciate the gesture.” She pats Ikora’s hand before releasing her. “Now,” she leafs through a folder with cloth swatches and decoration ideas. “Zavala gave me his preferences for the decorations colour scheme. I propose we ignore it completely.”

 

“I concur.”

 

-/

 

“I still can’t believe it.” Sloane absently trails her fingers through Amanda’s hair. “I mean, you think you know someone.”

 

Amanda rearranges herself on the couch to lay her head in Sloane’s lap. She wrinkles her nose in confusion. “Are you mad about it?”

 

“No, I’m just surprised. I’ve known Zavala a very,  _ very _ long time and I just assumed he was married to the job. You know?”

 

“He never does anything by half measures. All or nothin’ with him. It’s great though. I’m real excited. Will you come shopping with me tomorrow? I need to pick out a dress.”

 

“Sure. I need to buy a suit.” 

 

Amanda sits bolt upright. “A suit?”

 

“You don’t like that idea?”

 

“Nah.” She straddles Sloane’s lap and circles her arms around her neck. “I  _ love  _ that idea.”

 

“Mmm…” Sloane mumbles against Amanda’s lips, “Anything to make my girl happy.”

 

Amanda breaks the kiss and pulls back to regard Sloane with a wicked smirk. “Anythin’?”

 

“Uh-huh…” Sloane affirms with more than a little suspicion.

 

“So you’ll help me catch the bouquet?” 

 

Sloane gives a resigned chuckle. “Commander Zavala, what have you unleashed?”

 

-/

 

“Don’t let your fears define you.”

 

“This is not a battle.”

 

“But you’re still scared.” Saladin smiles at Zavala. He pats down the lapels on Zavala’s suit before gripping his shoulders. “Don’t be. She’s not going to get cold feet.”

 

“She can be a little…” Zavala takes a deep breath. “Flighty. At times.”

 

“Not this time. Everything will go smoothly. Eva and Ikora have everything in hand-”

 

“They ignored my colour scheme-”

 

Saladin bites his tongue before he can make a comment about how badly orange and teal clash. “But they’ve done a good job. And I promise I won’t flub my lines.”

 

“Thank you, for agreeing to officiate. For everything.” 

 

“It’s my honour.” He steps back, giving his former pupil an appraising look. “I still remember you, limping into camp, dressed in tattered furs. Look at you now. You’ve come a long way.”

 

Zavala laughs softly and looks at his feet. “I still feel like a cold apple seed some days.”

 

Saladin takes him by the shoulders again and adjusts his posture. Titans should not slouch, especially not on days like today. “It has been a privilege to watch you grow. I wish…” He stops himself at the sight of Zavala’s concerned frown. He does wish Jolder were here to see this. He does wish she could have met Zavala’s intended. Suraya is a spirited woman, Jolder would have approved. He does wish Jolder were here now, fussing over Zavala. He wishes it with all his heart. But he won’t say it. It isn’t right. “I wish you every happiness.”

 

-/

 

“I’m not sure about this dress.”

 

“It’s a little late to change it now.” Marc hunkers down in front of her and takes her hands in his to stop her grabbing fistfuls of fabric. “Relax, you’re creasing your skirt.”

 

“I’m just not sure it’s me, you know, it has lace. What was I thinking? I don’t wear lace.  It’s too fake, he won’t like it.”

 

“Shhh, darling, you look beautiful. Besides…” He begins running his thumbs back and forth along her knuckles in an attempt to soothe her. “You could walk out there dressed in a burlap sack and he’d still think you were the most beautiful woman in the world. Which you are. That’s just a fact.”

 

Suraya casts her gaze sideways and nods. “Burlap is definitely more me. Okay!” She tries to stand, “Let’s go with the burlap.”

 

“Ah ah ah, no,” Marc pushes her gently back down into her seat. “The dress is perfect. You’re perfect. It’s going to be perfect. You loved this dress when you picked it out, never mind what anyone else thinks.”

 

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I care what  _ he _ thinks. I just…” Marc finds himself having to hold her hands again because she abandons crumpling up her skirt in favour of picking at her nails. “I just want to make him happy. He’s been through so much, he deserves to be happy.”

 

“You will.”

 

“What if I’m not good enough?”

 

“Suraya. Of course you’re good enough, you are more than good enough. This is just nerves, it’s normal. Before I got married, I was beside myself. I was convinced I’d trip over my shoelaces, or get my vows wrong, or that Devrim would run out on me. All of that melted away when I saw him waiting for me at the altar.” He lapses into a wistful, lop-sided smile. “I remember it so clearly. He was tugging at his collar before he realised I’d come in. He never much liked wearing his dress uniform but I’d never seen anyone more handsome. He may as well have been the only person in the entire world in that moment. It’ll be the same for you.” 

 

“Promise?”

 

“Pinkie swear.” Suraya laughs as she hooks her little finger around his. There’s a light knock on the door and Devrim slips into the room.

 

“All right, it’s time. Oh…” He stops dead in his tracks, clasps his hands together and raises them to his lips as if in prayer. “Oh, look at you.”

 

Suraya stands and smooths out her skirt. “Is it okay? Is the lace too much?”

 

“You look absolutely radian-” He swallows hard and starts dabbing furiously at his eyes. “Sorry…”

 

“Oh no, Dad, don’t!” Suraya protests, gulping down a lump in her throat. “You’re going to set me off too.”

 

“I knew this would happen,” Marc sighs as he fishes a couple of handkerchiefs out of his pocket. He hands one to Devrim then sets about very carefully dabbing away Suraya’s tears. 

 

“You look good too,” she tells Devrim with a watery smile. 

 

“Thank you, darling. The collar chafes awfully though.” Devrim runs his finger around his collar while Marc and Suraya exchange an amused, knowing look. “Very well. Are you ready?”

 

There’s a pause while Suraya exhales a long, slow breath before nodding. She hooks her right arm through Devrim’s and her left through Marc’s. When she steps out into the bazaar and makes her way to the plaza, she’s keenly aware of how many eyes are on her. Normally, she would consider that amount of attention tantamount to torture but today, she could not care less. She beams from ear to ear when she catches sight of Zavala. He stands tall. Proud. He’s smiling more than she’s ever seen before. Marc was right.


End file.
